


Indiana Pines

by impish_nature



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, indiana pines, no one should have ever let me play with this idea, one shot/drabble collection, stanley the archaeologist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:30:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6180235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impish_nature/pseuds/impish_nature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Indiana Pines AU</p>
<p>Based on @notllorstel archaeologist Stan! Drabbles and One-shots of his life using that basis. All the adventures he would have taken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indiana Pines

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I really wanted to call this Indiana Stan because it has a ring to it but Indiana Pines makes more sense ^^;
> 
> This is more of a fun little drabble than a one-shot. Hopefully it’s just some needed fluff after what else I’ve put people through with Galvanise ♥

“Found anything exciting?” Ford hummed, receiver tight between his chin and his shoulder as he carried on with his own work. He didn’t have to ask who was on the other end when it crackled to life, there was only one person who could come through this line. He had designed the long range line with his brother in mind, the item made specifically for him to get in touch in the most out of reach places he usually found himself in with his line of work. Luckily he had a great assistant who was a dab hand with machinery to help smooth out the kinks of his endeavour when his design had proved difficult to make a reality.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Ford frowned, glancing over at the clock as his light-hearted question went ignored. “No, you’re a few hours ahead where you are, you know that.”

“Heh, oh yeah, that’s true. No idea what the time is here though, been out of the sunlight for quite a while.”

Ford stood up straight, dropping what he was doing. There was something sheepish about the way his brother was speaking, something that he really wasn’t used to. He moved his head into a more comfortable position, grabbing the receiver so it couldn’t fall. “Stan? What’s going on? Can you talk?”

“What? Yeah, everything is- well, no, actually I was ringing for a bit of a favour.”

Ford raised an eyebrow, trying not to feel exasperated. It wasn’t often that Stan rang him for help but he was used to shouting at him after the fact for the close calls he got himself into. Stan was usually happy to regale him with tales of his latest exploits without noticing he was giving his brother a heart attack as he listened. “Please tell me you did not promise to pay someone to guide you and then refused to pay them, _again_ , Stanley?”

“Hey! Those guides pointed me in the right direction, nothing more! I still refuse to accept that I should have paid them for doing basically nothing.”

Stan’s affronted grumble through the phone made Ford snort, unamused. That particular incident had been far more gruelling in Ford’s mind against Stan’s flippant and nonchalant remarks about drawn knives, vicious arguments and one or two ‘awesome’ scars. His brother had a habit of getting himself into dangerous situations but most of the time he could at least get himself out of them mostly unscathed as well. “Well? What do you need then?”

“Well…”

Ford strained as Stan’s words went into a barely audible, sulking mutter. “ _Stan_.” He couldn’t help it, the warning tone ringing through his entire being. He was used to these conversations being jovial and joking. Usually Stan would excitedly call to tell him he’d found a new inscription for his own research or wall carvings and paintings of anomalies that he’d be scribbling down whilst pouring the details out to him over the phone in an enthusiastic babble. He wasn’t used to his brother being suspiciously subdued and shamefaced.

“I maaaaay have been cursed.” Stan accentuated the word but it was fairly obvious to both of them that it was a barefaced lie.

“You _what_?!” Ford rubbed a hand over his temples, a headache brewing below the surface. His brother always knew just how to get under his skin without even meaning to. Especially calling him from a far off place where it wasn’t exactly like he could get to him speedily to help. Before he could reproach the man further though he was cut off.

“Hey, before you get on your high horse, I would like to point out that this was not my fault. You can blame my guide for this, who is lucky he is still getting 10% of all this-”

Another voice in the background, full of anger and chagrin chimed in, but Ford couldn’t make out the words over the crackling line. Especially not when Stan shouted over him, his voice no longer quiet and ashamed but full of a deep sarcastic venom.

“Yeah? I promised you 40% did I? If I remember rightly we haggled that figure _and that_ was before you got me _cursed_ , you-”

“Stan. Not the time. Just bare details please so I can actually help.”

Stan stayed quiet for a moment, Ford could almost hear the glare he was giving his guide through the phone before his barely contained anger reverberated through his gritted teeth. “Alright, alright. So I’ve researched this place a lot, right? And all the inscriptions basically say what greed will do to you, blah, blah, blah. Anyway, all I could really decipher from it was that there was one relic held in higher regard than anything else here. It was an artifact worn only by the most worthy in the religion worshipped here and imbued them with power. But if anyone else tried to wear it, it would…well actually I don’t know what it would do exactly but I assume nothing good. And it was pretty damn obvious which one that was from its golden, gem encrusted pedestal next to the altar in here. I _explained_ all that to mister wise guy standing idiotically in front of me earlier before I left him to it. Should have left you to it altogether you ungrateful, little twerp-”

“ _Stan_.”

“Right, sorry.” Stan took a steadying breath. “I went about my business, grabbed some interesting things the museum might like, pocketed the gold, you know, the usual. Only then I turn around to- waste of space here, and he’s halfway up the steps to the altar with his hand outstretched. I darted up to stop him, yelling out to him but then accidentally touched the damn thing myself as I pushed his hand away.” The talking stopped, and he could hear movement of the other side of the line, as if Stan was gesturing wildly. “Now I’ve got some stupid inscribed gold bracelet stuck to my wrist and no way of getting it off.”

“You really need to find a good guide before you get yourself into these messes, Stanley.”

“Well I did offer for you to help me out and come with but you’ve got your own work to be getting on with.” There was a beat of silence before Stan continued, his words quiet and oddly nervous. “So, are you gonna help me or what?”

“Huh? Of course!” Ford blinked, jolting out of his annoyed thoughts and dissipating any response to Stan’s offer as he started pulling books down from his bookcase that may be helpful in this situation. “Just get yourself over here and I’ll sort out this mess.” He glared at nothing again as more thoughts trickled through as his memory banks worked overtime to figure out how to get his brother out of this mess. “Hell, why are you even wasting time ringing me? Get off the phone and get back over here already.”

“Uhh, see that’s…that’s another snagging point.”

The warning note came back to Ford’s voice as his movements stilled completely. “Stan, I swear to god if your guide hit other booby traps in there and get you trapped, then you are not allowed to pick your guides from now on.”

“No he- well yes it is his fault but not like that. The bracelet won’t let me leave.”

“It won’t-” Ford trailed a finger across the spines of his books, grabbing one as it came to rest on a familiar title. He flicked it open, skimming the pages. “What is this thing actually doing to you?”

“I’m not sure? I mean we tried to leave and I just kind of bounced back at the doorway whereas he could go through still. My fingers feel a bit tingly but I think that’s just me getting weirded out by the thing currently glued to my wrist. That and-” His voice got quieter, Ford hearing the shuffling of feet as if his brother was turning around. “And I’m getting, you know, a bit claustrophobic at the thought of possibly suffocating or starving down in this hell hole, you get me? When I said I wanted to die surrounded by gold, this was not how I pictured it, Sixer.”

“Yeah, I get it. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” Ford toyed with putting the phone down, once Stan listed off their co-ordinates, without a goodbye. Just hanging up, grabbing his map and figuring out the quickest route. But there was something about the hitch in Stan’s breath, the barely muffled curse that kept him there, a small lurch of worry settling in his stomach. “Stan? Stan, what’s going on?”

“I, uhh, I think I just figured out what the bracelet does.”

“Yeah? You feel like enlightening me there, knucklehead?”

“There are gold statues round the room. I thought they were guards and stuff but I’m noticing some more…contemporary outfits on a few of them now. It was more the horrified facial expressions as I walked near one that really made me look to be honest.”

Ford gulped, his hand twitching as he stuffed a bag full of items, anything that came across his mind as even possibly useful as he spun around his lab. There was something about Stanley sounding lost in the face of danger that had him in knots. Stan was always good under pressure. “Hey, you listen here. I’m on my way. That’s not going to be you.”

“Heh. I trust ya, Sixer. Just get yourself over here and use your nerd powers to get me out of this mess.”

 

* * *

 

“Woo! That was a close one, wasn’t it?”

“Too close, Knucklehead. This isn’t a laughing matter.” Ford tutted as Stan rubbed at his wrist, the only indication that he taking any of this in anyway seriously. It had been a full day at least since their phone call, if not more by Ford’s calculations and when he’d found him, his hand had been immovable, a heavy block of gold that was slowly creeping up his arm. Yet Stan’s face in contrast was a bright grin, as if they’d only been chased by some bullies like when they were kids, not dealing with an age old curse that could have left him an irreversible golden statue if they had been too late.

“Aww, come on, it’s not like you won’t be there to look after me next time.”

“There better not be a next time!”

“Hey, you didn’t seem to be complaining when you pocketed the bracelet for further research back home. Right up your alley that artifact, isn’t it, Poindexter? Think of it as a thank you present for saving your dumber brother from being stuck with horrifically gaudy jewellery for the rest of his life.”

“Rest of his short life.” Ford sighed exasperatedly, ignoring the joking nudge his brother gave him. If he was honest, he was just as relieved and maybe if he wasn’t so tired he’d also be brimming with a hysterical amusement at the situation. But the incantations and research it had taken to get the curse lifted had exhausted him far too much to really give in to his brother’s jovial antics. Even the prospect of researching the artifact was tarnished with the knowledge of what could have been and what may still happen if his brother wasn’t careful on more treasure hunting trips. With that in mind he stopped in his tracks, reaching into his bag for something he’d forgotten in the midst of everything else.

“Ford? Look, I’m sorry alright? I’m just happy to be breathing fresh air again alright? I know that was too close a cal-” Stan tilted back quickly as a fist came for his face, eyes closing as he waited for impact. He plucked up the courage to open one eye when there wasn’t any pain, blinking at the clenched hand under his nose. “Uhh, Sixer?”

The hand jiggled in front of him. “Take it already.”

Stan tilted his head round the hand to see his brother looking on frustratedly and put his hands out under his. He felt something warm and solid drop into his palm before the hand retracted, a small carved wooden pendant and chain left in its wake. “What? You get bored on your way here?” Stan remarked, rolling the thing in his fingers as he took in the symbols running its length.

“It’s a talisman, should ward against most kinds of curses with all the different symbols I could remember while I was carving it. I’ll make some more later for other things, look through my books for more, but it was the best I could come up with at short notice.”

“Huh, thanks, bro, didn’t know you could whittle.” Stan stared at it for a few moments as Ford walked passed him, obviously embarrassed by the affair. A grin spread across his face as he looped the thing around his neck, moving to catch up. “So, does this mean I can touch cursed objects now without worrying?”

“Wha-? No! Stanley! It’s not meant to be used like that, it’s a precaution against more accidents.” Ford spun back to him, a finger prodding at his brother’s chest. “There will not be a next time, do I make myself clear?!” He sighed again, an equal mix of endearing and exasperated. “Good lord, I’m going to have to make you gloves that are covered in incantations so you can’t touch anything with your bare skin.”

“Oh, that sounds great, how long would they take to make? Aww, come on, Ford, don’t look at me like that. Think about it! All the artifacts I could bring back for your research. We’d make quite a team.”

“I am not making you gloves so you can be even more reckless than you already are. Are you even listening to me, Stanley? _Stanley_!”

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I just imagine Stan getting himself in trouble every so often and Ford being an exasperated older brother when it happens XD I might make some ficlet posts for this au because there’re somethings I want to throw up but not as actual fics. Like how the college situation worked out in this au. I don’t want to write it but I have a few ideas as to what happened then.


End file.
